Celebrating Life After Breast Cancer

I was just demoted, and I’m thrilled. I’ve moved down from semi-annual mammograms back to yearly ones. As we observe Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I’m more than four years cancer-free. 

I’m not back to my old self again, and I never will be. This journey has changed me in ways I didn’t expect, but many of those changes are good ones. 

A Surprise Diagnosis 

Cancer was not on my radar. I had a healthy lifestyle, good stress management skills, and no risk factors. When my mammogram showed a suspicious mass, the radiologist wasn’t too worried. “It’s probably benign,” he reassured me. Every doctor who treated me would repeat those words. 

Further tests didn’t show malignancy, but they didn’t rule it out. I decided to watch and wait, hoping the tiny spot would disappear. It didn’t. The next step was a lumpectomy and biopsy. 

The surgeon called a week later with the results. The scratchy phone connection made his voice sound far away. He told me my cancer was non-invasive, and the tumor was completely removed. He recommended radiation and hormone blockers to keep it from coming back. 

Obediently, I scheduled follow-up consultations, but I felt lost at the big complex where I’d had my surgery. I decided to switch to a different provider closer to home. I’ve never regretted seeking the care that was right for me, and I encourage others to do the same. 

What I Wish I’d Known 

Looking back, I cringe at how judgmental I used to be about cancer. When a family friend was diagnosed, I remember thinking, “She should have taken better care of herself.” 

The truth is more complicated. Lifestyle choices do matter, but there are no guarantees. Working out and eating leafy greens every day didn’t stop me from getting a tumor. 

I was also lulled into a false sense of security because I didn’t have any family history of breast cancer. I wish someone had told me most new cases occur in people without a genetic risk. If I’d known that, I might have been more diligent about scheduling mammograms. I was years overdue for a screening when we found my mass. 

I finished radiation on New Year’s Eve, 2019. “Now you can put this behind you,” everyone told me—everyone except other cancer survivors. They knew something else that nobody warned me about: I couldn’t go back to who I was before my diagnosis. 

Most of the time, I don’t want to go back. 

Embracing the Blessings 

I was still recovering from treatment when the COVID-19 pandemic began. To cope with the isolation, I walked at local parks and took endless pictures on my dinosaur-age phone. I discovered I had a gift for capturing photos of tiny miracles I never used to notice: raindrops on a feather, the spiral knot in an old tree trunk, a heart-shaped puddle reflecting the sky. Cancer gave me that gift. It taught me to slow down and pay attention. 

I’ve noticed other changes, too. On the downside, I struggle with fatigue, and I’m at higher risk for certain health problems. But I’m also more compassionate and less judgmental (most of the time). Gratitude comes easier than it used to. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never seen cancer itself as a blessing. I hate this disease. I continue to have plenty of bad mood days and even more bad hair days (treatment made my hair thinner, and I am not grateful for this). Still, I’m thankful for everything I’ve learned and everything I’ve become since my diagnosis. 

My healthy, ninety-three-year-old father recently told me, “Every day is a gift now.” I couldn’t say it any better.